


Assistance

by PoisonJack



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Blowjobs, Flirting, General au, M/M, Porn Without Plot, Rhys as Jack's PA, handjobs, its all good cuz they love that shit tho, rhys gets caught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 05:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15857574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonJack/pseuds/PoisonJack
Summary: Quick excuse for some PWP :) Jack catches his PA jerking off and lends a helping hand ;DThis was a request on tumblr:consider... a thing where jack takes care of rhys. just like in whatever way u might want to take that. im thinking like rhys is sick and is 2 pitiful to take care of himself but u can totally... smut that up to ur own tastes should u so desire.Oh Jack takes care of Rhys in this one folks LOLOL





	Assistance

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't put up any new borderlands shit in a while; ain't you guys surprised its not a fallout notification this time AHAHHA xD Also on my tumblr [here](https://purge-that-urge-rhackathon.tumblr.com/post/177607234270/gently-kicks-thru-the-door-how-did-i-only-now).

Rhys was frustrated.

Not just because he’d tripped over his own damn feet bringing Jack his morning coffee, _nor_ from the resultant fracture to his left hand that the doctors told him to _absolutely_ not use for the remaining two weeks as it healed nicely, and not even from the fact that his right hand needed recalibration after the embarrassing face-plant in front of the CEO’s desk.

No, he was frustrated because Jack-- for all his teasing and braying laughter- was actually being _nice_ about Rhys’ clumsy fall, had shunted off the majority of hand-intensive work to his secretary, and was being _extra_ considerate and handsy with him in the office in ways that set Rhys’ heart beating faster.

In the very sense of the word, Rhys was getting desperate, and desperation lead to… _creativity._

His cybernetic arm was a mechanical wonder of technology, yes, but even _without_ the calibration it so sorely needed, it wasn’t quite the same-- or welcoming- as his flesh hand. 

He’d considered asking Jack to recalibrate it for him- more than a few times- but the idea of letting his boss into his subsystems and opening up his hardware was…. Well... Jack had a questionable attention span already, and coupled with his brilliant mind, Rhys was worried about what he could possibly put in there. Spyware. Weird voice commands. Or worse, with the connection to his echoeye, he might encounter all the _very-_ specific searches Rhys had done about the man on the echonet.

Not worth it, in his opinion.

His right hand was… _usable,_ yeah, but it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t what he’d call ambidextrous, and the lag in how his fingers worked-- imperceptible to others but frustratingly off to him- made even the most enthusiastic jerking-session a lesson in persistence.

He was horny was the thing. Crazy horny. Unable-to-ignore and stressed-out-of-his-mind-and-required-release horny. Release was good, the relief itself a blessing, but he wasn’t _satisfied._ And the fact that his insanely-attractive boss almost seemed to be touching him more than normal in encouragement, _watching_ him more keenly than usual in case he needed assistance, wasn’t helping matters.

Of course he could have just been being paranoid, and Jack himself was more observant than he was given credit for. But if Rhys didn’t figure out some way to get himself off that _wasn’t_ shamefully sticking it in a sock and fucking between the mattress, then he was probably going to end up short-circuiting something.

And then he’d be out _two_ hands and up one easily-encouraged boner and he could just kiss his professional reputation goodbye.

Not that he didn’t feel he was doing that already.

Jack had given him half days to rest-- or more like half- _weeks._ Rhys spent some days working from the couch in his apartment-- or his bed when feeling particularly lazy- and other days spent in the office with the CEO doing not much else than fetching coffee or looking pretty when Jack yelled at people.

He was doing that now, actually, listening to music and working remotely with his echotablet from bed to organize things for Jack’s meeting tomorrow.

Well speak of the devil. A notification popped up on his echoeye; the personal chat Jack had had him install mainly so he could write snarky comments to the younger man _during_ meetings. Though it also proved very useful to quickly communicate since Rhys’ hands weren’t doing what he wanted them to these days.

\-->J4ckRule5: ive got some shit I need you to personally look through  
\-->J4ckRule5: stuff for 2morrow these idiots didnt send in the brief

Crap. What timing.

<\--Rhy5winz: Do you need me to come in?  
\-->J4ckRule5: nah ill drop it by your crappy little apartment after work  
\-->J4ckRule5: been meaning to see if that part of helios needs fumigating again :p  
<\--Rhy5winz: >:|  
<\--Rhy5winz: Thanks for your kindness and consideration, sir.

There was a pause, and Rhys smirked to himself. Jack was probably laughing at his own jokes, but even more at Rhys’ overly polite response. They were hardly this courteous to one another anymore after working together so long, and his own way of handling his boss made him grin. Jack’s response met his expectations entirely; probably bored with nothing better to do than bug him.

\-->J4ckRule5: U mad? (:

Rhys smirked.

<\--Rhy5winz: I don’t know what you mean, sir.  
<\--Rhy5winz: Please take care when coming down here.  
<\--Rhy5winz: Don’t want any vermin biting our CEO.

Rhys was amused as he waited for Jack to get back to him, the CEO typing for ages it felt, when Rhys realized something.

Shit. He was getting hard over Jack’s playful messages. _Really?_ Over a few innocent texts from his _boss_ about _work? Seriously?_ That’s what was getting him excited nowadays? Jesus he needed to take the edge off ASAP because this wasn’t just embarrassing, but downright _insulting._ Not to mention what it said about _him_ to be getting all hot over Jack’s denigrating teasing.

Rhys stared at his tented boxer briefs with judgment as Jack’s response was overlaid right over the tip of his dick.

\-->J4ckRule5: dont get ur panties in a twist there pumpkin ;D

Rhys’ dick twitched at that. 

Fuck. 

Even as he was disappointed in his cock’s _lack_ of taste in what was erotic, he was already palming himself through his underwear with his metallic hand. Maybe he could make this work.

\-->J4ckRule5: if u even own panties

Rhys’ brows shot up in interest and a spike of undue alarm at the thought that Jack knew what he was doing went through him-- and made his cock harder.

\-->J4ckRule5: speaking of which:  
\-->J4ckRule5: do u own panties? (;

Rhys actually laughed, a husky sound as his cock liked this conversation very much so, and didn’t give much thought as to the appropriateness of the topic.

<\--Rhy5winz: You can’t bring up a topic and then say ‘speaking of which’, Jack.  
\-->J4ckRule5: i just did ;p  
\-->J4ckRule5: dont change the subject 

Rhys’ chewed on his lips, his breathing deep and hips moving just a little of their own volition against his hand. He freed his cock from its confines and stroked himself, cursing the lag and responsiveness of his hand, but making do.

<\--Rhy5winz: Wouldn’t you like to know  
\-->J4ckRule5: i would ;D  
\-->J4ckRule5: answer the question kitten. im really bored here

Rhys allowed his mind to wander, to fantasize over any possible subtext. _Bored._ Right. The idea that Jack was bored and jerking off in his chair gave him a little thrill. That he was talking to _Rhys_ of all people while possibly doing so made him very excited indeed.

<\--Rhy5winz: Sorry sir, that is classified information.  
<\--Rhy5winz: You don’t have access :p  
\-->J4ckRule5: brat  
\-->J4ckRule5: and how does one gain access? ;D

Okay, this was some next-level flirting for Jack; playing along and furthering the teasing. And that response was fast. He was either _super_ bored and having a laugh at Rhys’ expense, or he _was_ passing the time by playing a little five-on-one.

Good idea or not, Rhys wasn’t the one writing his responses to the older man so much as his cock was, and all the thoughts of Jack’s hands on him in the office-- little innocent but overly familiar touches- was adding to the novelty of the experience. 

<\--Rhy5winz: This is pretty privileged information  
<\--Rhy5winz: I don’t know. Maybe you should work harder  
\-->J4ckRule5: OH believe me cupcake im the hardest worker on this station

Rhys made a little noise at that, now _certain_ Jack had his dick in hand and taking out his boredom at Rhys’ expense. Well, teasing the CEO back was probably safe at this point, right? He knew Jack appreciated some good word play, and though it was risky, he decided to let the older man know he knew what he was up to. It wasn’t like Jack didn’t make dirty jokes in the office _constantly._ Turnaround was fair play.

<\--Rhy5winz: I have no doubt you are ;)  
<\--Rhy5winz: Sucks having to take matters into your own hands

Jack was typing for several moments, Rhys’ heart beating and his cock pulsing as he awaited the response. It was shorter than all that typing lead him to expect, making him curious what the older man might’ve sent _instead._

\-->J4ckRule5: ur killin me here cupcake

Rhys snickered at the response, waiting for more, but none came. Huh. Well, that was anticlimactic, though it was useful as he was harder than ever (or as hard as he’d been since the injury) and he quickly forgot about their conversation in lieu of inflating it for masturbation fantasies.

It was going pretty well, actually, and he’d have to thank Jack (in some roundabout way, of course… maybe a cheese and sausage basket to be funny) because he knew it wasn’t going to be a goddamn _nightmare_ trying to get himself off this time. No lubed-up and ruined socks-- which was a crime in itself- nor errant twitching of uncalibrated fingers to throw off his delicate movements on his poor neglected cock. 

No, rubbing himself against his thighs was actually working pretty nicely, and the smooth metal of his fingers warmed with his body heat actually felt really good. Imagining Jack at his desk imagining _Rhys_ was doing it for him, and rereading their conversation from earlier only added more substance to his fantasy.

So when Jack himself stuck his head around the corner of Rhys’ doorjamb, the younger man thought he was just getting _really_ good at visualizing what he wanted-- for approximately a quarter of a second.

Rhys made an impossible sound between a gulp and a squeak-- _impressive_ in Jack’s opinion- as he quickly pulled a pillow over himself, face _crimson_ and speechless that Jack was in his apartment, let alone his _bedroom._

“Heeeeey cupcake… _Whatcha doin’?”_

The dirty leer on Jack’s face told Rhys the older man knew _exactly_ what he’d been doing. There was no way out of this, and Jack looked about as pleased as anyone finding someone else jerking their dick possibly could.

“H-How-- How did you get in here? _Why_ are you in here?!”

“Was gonna deliver that stuff to you but forgot it halfway after those dirty texts you sent me, kitten. Not to mention, the door locks on this level are ridiculously easy to hack.”

Jack’s grin was predatory, shark-like, and it did funny things to Rhys’ stomach, and furthermore, his cock beneath the pillow.

“This how you’ve been using these work-at-home days? It’s not like I’d stop you if you wanted to do this at the office, kiddo.”

Rhys whined, embarrassed, frustrated, tired, and goddamn _horny_ and just wanting a little relief. His damn cock was _still_ hard beneath the pillow. 

It had flagged a _little,_ yeah, but with the object of his fantasy _right goddamn there_ and the way Jack was leering at him, well… Rhys’ cock was a dirty goddamn traitor and he wasn’t getting out of this situation gracefully.

“Cat got your tongue, kitten?”

Jack’s eyes were darting between his face and the pillow, interest and amusement there both but not yet moving closer, and Rhys was _so_ close yet _not,_ and so goddamn fucking _frustrated_ he didn’t even care at this point and rambled quickly to the older man. “...I’ve had a rough week and shit timing and no sleep and I _hate_ this damn cast and being useless _and I can’t sleep-_ ” he repeated, “-and nothing is working how it should and I can’t even do my job right and I feel useless here.”

“ _That_ it?” Jack asked smugly, still looking expectantly at the pillow. 

Rhys knew he was _not_ going to drop the topic, so he internally said fuck it and just blurted out: “...and I’m just really pent up and _this isn’t fucking working_ and if I don’t get off I’m going to strangle someone… with someone else’s hands,” he growled.

A pleased shiver went up Jack’s back as a smirk took his face, and he moved closer as if his personal assistant’s dick _wasn’t_ out and leaking beneath a Hyperion-branded pillow. “Babe, _kitten_ , is that all? If you were horny you could’ve just said so. I’d have been down here ten minutes ago.”

Jack sat down next to him, a hand starting at his thigh and disappearing under the pillow. He heard the way Rhys’ breath hitched, the younger man’s face becoming less red with embarrassment and more pink with arousal, and his whole body _very_ aware of the path Jack’s hand was taking. When it made contact with his shaft, Rhys made a mumbled sort of whimper in his throat, eyes shutting tightly as Jack’s big hand wrapped around his cock and gave him a gentle squeeze. Rhys whined pathetically, and Jack cozied up into his space to whisper smugly into the younger man’s ear.

“ _Baby_ ,” Jack said, breath hot on Rhys’ skin as he allowed his face to touch Rhys’ own just barely. “I’m always up to get you what you need. Even if all you need is to get off.” He gave him a stroke and Rhys’ hand shot out to grab Jack at the man’s shoulder, bending a little at the waist towards Jack as it felt _so damn good_ and was just what he needed and _god_ he wanted Jack to stroke him.

Jack pressed his lips to Rhys’ neck where the younger man’s flesh was exposed to him, grinning and feeling his own cock rallying in his jeans as he played with Rhys.

The pillow was flung away, and Jack wrapped one arm around Rhys’ waist, the other giving him long, tight strokes that passed over his cockhead every few. It was rougher than Rhys was used to-- but he was so on edge and it was so goddamn satisfying and it was _Jack_ doing it to him- and he came relatively quickly with pleased little cries over the older man’s hand.

Jack wiped his hand on Rhys’ sheets before hooking a hand behind his neck and kissing the younger man senseless. It totally blew Rhys’ mind.

Sex was one thing, _kissing_ was another, and Rhys was thrown through so many loops and twists and turns of defied expectations that he threw caution to the wind and wrapped his arms around his boss, _the_ Handsome Jack, and kissed him back for all he was worth.

Jack’s heavy breathing and the way the older man’s kisses turned to nipping bites was already rallying Rhys’ cock for a second time, but he pulled away when Jack broke it, a filthy look of desire on his face that Rhys’ attention was only stolen from by the older man’s tented pants.

“Jack, I-I want to-- to-- _fuck,_ ” he cursed, wanting more than _anything_ to return the favor and get his hands on his boss’s dick like something out of one of his fantasies. Neither of his hands were up to the job and the _last_ thing he wanted to do was have the CEO think he was shit at handjobs, but the way Jack was tenting his own jeans was nothing to tease about. He’d done that to the CEO, and dammit, he _really_ wanted to do something memorable to it.

“Maybe next time, sweet pea,” Jack laughed at Rhys’ words, a big hand on Rhys’ thigh as he bit at the younger man’s neck. “When you’re all healed up and I don’t have a meeting with distribution in an hour. Maybe in my big yellow chair, mm?” 

Rhys’ eyes widened as he looked at the older man. Next time? Wait… he wanted to fuck him? 

Jesus Antwerp Christ, Rhys must’ve actually fell on his head and not his hand, and he was having a coma-wet-dream right now, because that was right up there in his impossible bucket-list of imaginary jerk-off material. 

“In the meantime baby, you don’t _need_ your hands to give a blowjob, right?”

Rhys swallowed and his mouth watered, and at this point he didn’t give a shit about Jack’s smug look that said he knew he was going to get what he wanted, or that insufferable grin that knew how much Rhys wanted to give it to him.

No, the younger man slid off his unmade bed, cock still out at half-mast, to eagerly get between Jack’s knees while the older man chuckled with arousal and undid his belt and fly to remove his cock from his jeans. 

It wasn’t the best blowjob he’d ever given, or even in the top five, but the way Jack moaned his name, carded fingers through his messy hair, and talked dirty to him as Rhys sucked him off definitely ranked it among the most memorable of experiences to boot. The strangled curses that left the older man’s lips as he’d come down Rhys’ throat was the best of all, and knowing he was one of the few privileged enough to know the sound of Handsome Jack being thoroughly _wrecked_ was enough to get him through this hellish period until he got full use of his hands back.

“Jesus kiddo, if that’s what you can do _without_ your hands, I can’t wait until you’re all fixed.” He swiped a thumb under Rhys’ swollen lower lip, teasing it over his mouth before applying the barest of pressure. Rhys sucked the digit into his mouth with a pleased hum, and Jack just chuckled, pleased. “Damn buttercup, you _were_ pent up, huh baby?”

Rhys just nodded in agree-- would agree to just about anything Jack said right now- and hopped back up on the bed when Jack patted it.

The older man kissed him into the mattress, hand already back on his cock which surprised Rhys enough to make a noise about it, and Jack just laughed until he’d jerked him to full hardness and through another orgasm. 

Rhys’ sheets were a ruined mess, and he was more or less feeling the same. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as Jack tucked his own spent cock back into his pants, redid zip and belt, and told Rhys his work for the day was _excellent._ It made them both laugh, and Jack moved to leave until he gave one last look at the younger man laying there, the very picture of contentment.

“Forget something?” Rhys asked, voice teasing but dripping with satisfaction.

“Yeah, I did.” 

Jack came and bent at the waist to kiss him again, moving to his neck where he sucked and bit at the younger man. It felt good until Rhys yelped, and Jack rose with a laugh, moving Rhys’ hand that had moved to the spot where he’d bit him. There was a pretty decent hickey there. Rhys bruised up nicely. 

“What the hell, Jack?”

“Just making sure you don’t forget about me, cupcake.”

Rhys gave him a frown. “We work together.”

“So, _so_ well, sugar pie.” The glare Rhys sent his way had zero effect on the older man. “Okay pumpkin, see you tomorrow, bright and early. Same old same old. Or maybe not so much.”

Rhys snorted. His neck smarted, but he was already excited about work tomorrow, clear this little liaison was going to be continued, and pleased as fucking punch about it. “Lock up after yourself, will you? Don’t want any vermin getting in. There was a big rat in here that just bit the shit out of me.”

“You little brat,” Jack laughed, himself feeling ready for the dullery that was distribution, his own edge without his pretty PA well taken off. “But guess I don’t want anyone else taking a bite of my cheese.” Rhys snorted. “See ya babe.”

Rhys laid in bed for a while after, replaying everything in his head all giddy as hell. Dream come true? Yes please and thank you for seconds if you don’t mind.

He got up later with interest as his doorbell rang, wondering if it was Jack and if the older man had remembered his manners.

A special delivery from one of Helios’ most expensive boutiques was instead waiting for him to sign, the Hyperion-yellow lace of expensive panties inside with a note that said ‘Mystery solved -J.’

Rhys told himself he was going to spite the older man by _not_ wearing them to work tomorrow, but Jack’s pleased laugh of surprise when his face was in Rhys’ lacey-crotch the next day was worth it. 

With Jack’s special deliveries and their new work ethic, Rhys found that fracturing his hand wasn’t so bad in retrospect, and for every stormcloud, there was a Hyperion-yellow laced-lining to look forward to.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment please if you even got a giggle xD Every comment sends one more pair of lacey underwear in every color of the rainbow to rhys' door HAHAH :)
> 
> [my tumblr](http://purge-that-urge-rhackathon.tumblr.com/) | [my fic masterlist archive](http://purge-that-urge-rhackathon.tumblr.com/post/134979026515/poisonjack-ao3-fic-archive)


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